Complications
by Katana Sundancer
Summary: Wedge and Iella are faced with challenges in their lives together.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't Wanna**

Wedge rolled over, wrapping an arm around his wife. He buried his face in her hair and waited for sleep to take him again.

A sharp elbow to his ribs interrupted this plan. "Ow," he grumbled sleepily, tightening his hold.

"Wedge, let go!" Another jab made him groan.

"Don't wanna." He pulled her closer, bringing his other arm around her as well.

The resulting stream of Old Corellian invective had him raising his head to stare at the woman in his arms. "That wasn't very nice."

Iella glared at him. "Husband, _dearest_, you will let me go _right now_, or I will break both your arms."

He blinked at her slowly, taken aback by her soft yet fierce tone. '_I really do not want to test her resolve right now.' _He released and sighed as she vanished into the refresher. _'I just wanted to cuddle,'_ he thought forlornly as he burrowed into her pillow.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he was aware of was a hand running gently through his hair. His eyes flickered open to find Iella seated beside him, showered and dressed. The expression on her face was an odd mix of exasperation and tenderness.

She sighed as she looked down at him. "How can you make me feel so guilty without even saying a word?"

Wedge mumbled incoherently as he curled around to settle his head in her lap, still feeling hazy with sleep. "Is a gift," he finally managed.

Iella snorted quietly. "You know, you could often almost pass for some mild-mannered Alderaanian – but comments like that remind everyone that you're as Corellian as Han Solo and Corran Horn.

Wedge wrapped both arms around her waist and snuggled even closer. "But with nicer hair."

"Much nicer, husband – do you know how many women would kill for hair this fine?"

"On me or them?"

Her laugh made him smile. "Both, probably. Though there are a lot of other things to kill for about you."

He felt himself blush; even after nearly three years of marriage, compliments could still make him shy. "You more than me, my love."

"I'm glad you think so." She kissed the top of his head. "So, I take it I'm forgiven?"

"Course you're forgiven." He caught one hand and placed a light kiss on her palm.

"Good." She jostled him with her knee. "Time to get up then."

"Don't wanna." He hid his face in her lap.

"Wedge," she growled. "Get your head out of there." She nudged him with her knee again, much harder this time.

"Don't wanna," he mumbled, grinning. "Ow! Stop hitting me!" He rolled onto his back, rubbing the side of his head.

"Stop being difficult!"

"Love, I was born difficult. Hey! Enough with the hitting!" He grabbed her arms and pulled her down far enough to capture her lips with his.

She sighed against his mouth as he deepened the kiss, and her hands moved over his chest; fingertips tracing his muscles, fingernails lightly scratching the contours. He nibbled her lower lip, making her moan – then she suddenly sat upright. "Enough, Antilles. I – Hey!"

Wedge twisted to the side, took a firm hold of her thighs and pulled her down the bed till they were face-to-face. He covered her lips with his, even as he covered her body with his, hands making swift work of her shirt fastenings.

Iella sat up on her elbows, trying to look stern – but her cheeks were flushed and desire was clear in her eyes. "Wedge, we both have to get to work," she said breathlessly.

He pushed her back down into the mattress, kissing her forcefully. "Don't wanna," he growled, and worked his way down her neck then back up the other side. She whimpered when he nipped at her earlobe. "You really want me to stop; you go ahead and make me."

Iella shifted under him, cradling his body, and her strong hands drew his face back around for a searing kiss. "Don't wanna."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wedge Antilles… Sex God?**

"You're late." Corran grinned at his former partner as she approached the table he shared with Mirax and Wedge.

He jerked back when she jabbed a finger at his face. "Don't even start with me, Horn."

"O...kay." _I'll leave Cranky Iella to her husband. It is, after all, his job._

Wedge reached for her waist. "Tough day, love?"

Iella pushed his arm away with a loud slap that caused other diners to peer at them curiously. "Don't touch me."

"Iella-"

"Have you ordered?" Iella cut him off sharply, taking the seat opposite him.

"No, we were waiting for you," Mirax assured her, pouring a glass of wine. "Did Cracken want to talk about that Levedru Bloodblades situation again?"

"Bloodblades?" Corran snorted. "They sound like a fun bunch."

Iella barely glanced at him. "Just some minor points. No, mostly I was making up for time I lost this morning." She fixed Wedge with an icy glare.

"Ooh, General!" Mirax laughed with delight. "Delaying tactics, huh?"

Wedge blushed but was saved from having to reply by the waiter appearing to take their orders.

Corran watched Iella while she scanned the menu. Past the angry glare, he could see that her face was drawn and there were dark circles ringing her eyes.

Once the waiter had trotted away, Iella and Mirax picked up their conversation about the Bloodblades – whoever and whatever they were. Corran turned to Wedge and raised his eyebrows. "Late?"

Wedge rolled his eyes. "Do we have to discuss that?"

"We don't, but I'd bet my X-wing you two are going to." He glanced at the women again, noting the very deliberate way Iella refused to look at her husband. "And I don't think it's going to be very pleasant."

"Great. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. I have something to look forward to." Wedge leaned back slightly as their waiter distributed their meals. "Thank you."

"Just calling it as I see it." There was a momentary lull as everyone dug into their food. Wedge looked a little depressed and Corran decided to change the topic. "So, anything interesting happening in the big offices, General?"

"Only if you think it's interesting having to referee two ships captains arguing about who should get which squadrons. I finally told them that if they were going to squabble like children over toys, I would take _all_ of their squadrons and assign them to people who actually gave a damn about their pilots. That was three days ago, and I haven't heard from them since." Wedge smiled. "So the highlight of today was when I put the last signature to the last bit of paperwork and clocked out."

"Lucky you." Iella's tone, and gaze, had upgraded from 'icy' to 'acidic'. Corran winced, sympathy for Wedge's situation warring with relief that it wasn't his.

"Iella-" Wedge's voice held a clear note of pleading. _Those who think that General Antilles has ice water running through his veins have never seen him facing his angry wife._

"Because of you, I was late to work!"

_If that's her only objection, I think she's overreacting._

"I was late too-"

"_You_ weren't late to a meeting with General Cracken, four Wraiths and assorted other NRI personnel!" Iella pointed her knife at Wedge. "Do you have any idea the sort of cracks I had to put up with?"

_Oh. Now that makes more sense._

"I'm sorry, love. You could've said-"

"I tried to!" Iella's knife hit the table. "But _you_ had to be all '_I'm Wedge Antilles, Sex God-'_ "

"'Ella!"

Corran spluttered with laughter; at Iella's comment; at Wedge's expression of shock and embarrassment; at Mirax choking on her wine.

Iella's cheeks flushed red as she downed her drink in one go. Wedge was staring at his wife in disbelief. "Do you suppose we could have this _private_ conversation, about our _private_ lives, later, in _private_? As opposed to _now_ in a public forum?" His voice was rigid and controlled; his 'command' voice.

"Fine," Iella all but whispered, focussing on her food.

Wedge watched her for several minutes, leaving Corran and Mirax to stare at each other and fidget with their cutlery.

'_Awkward,'_ Mirax mouthed, and Corran nodded in agreement. Knowing that the Antilles' sometimes fought was one thing – actually having front row seats for the event was quite another.

Wedge finally looked back to them. "So how are Valin and Jysella?"

Mirax beamed. "They're great. Sella's been sleeping through the night for the last week – I'm so proud."

"Relieved is more like it. And Valin's still totally fascinated by her." Corran grinned. "He'll sometimes spend ages just watching her."

Iella stood abruptly, her chair clattering backwards. Without a word, she strode quickly towards the back of the restaurant. Corran watched her go, bemused, then turned back to the others.

Wedge's eyes were dark with hurt and worry. "Mirax, could you…?" He gestured vaguely after his wife.

Mirax squeezed his hand. "Alright. I'll do the 'women congregating in the 'freshers' thing. Only for you, Veggies." She kissed Corran's cheek as she hurried after Iella.

Wedge buried his face in his arms, not even objecting to the use of his childhood nickname. "I hate this." His words were muffled.

Corran gripped his shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fine. These things are just phases. I'm sure the two of you have been in snits before."

"Not like this." Wedge raised his head with a sigh. "I usually know why we're fighting. This time – I just don't understand."

"You're fighting because you made her late for work." Corran couldn't help smirking. "Congratulations on that, by the way. That must have taken quite an effort."

Wedge covered his face again. "Not talking about it."

"Iella takes her work very seriously. I could count on one hand the number of times she was late at CorSec. You must have been very… convincing."

"I outrank you and have full authority and resources to make your life miserable."

"Mm-hmm. Does she call you 'Sex God' often, or was this a special occasion?"

"Corran, I'm warning you…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Women Congregating in the Refresher**

Mirax found Iella sobbing over one of the sinks in the ladies' room. "Oh, honey." She wrapped her in a hug. "Come on, it's okay. Shh. It's alright." She found herself rocking her friend gently. _I'm soothing her like I would a child – I definitely need to get out more._

After several minutes, Iella pulled away, wiping her eyes. "Sorry Mirax. I – I just –" She sniffled and didn't continue.

"One of those days?" Mirax quipped, brushing stray strands of hair back from Iella's face.

"More like weeks." Iella huffed softly as she leaned back against the sink. With her eyes red from crying, dark circles under them from fatigue and tear tracks clear down her cheeks, she seemed ready to collapse.

"You do look exhausted."

"I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"Anything to do with…?" Mirax tilted her head towards the door, indicating the restaurant where their other halves were waiting.

"Yes… no, not _that_!" Iella corrected hastily when Mirax raised her eyebrows. "That was just this morning."

"Must've been good, huh?" Mirax couldn't resist teasing. "Given your little declaration out there…"

Iella covered her face for a moment. "I cannot believe I actually said that."

"Neither could Wedge." [i]_Neither could I, to be honest. Nor Corran, judging by the look on his face_ [/i]. Iella was glaring at her and Mirax smirked. "So if it's not Wedge, what is it?"

Iella sighed roughly. "It _is_ Wedge, it's just not… sex."

"True, he's not Corran. So how's he keeping you from sleeping? Is he snoring?" Mirax pulled a face. "Farting?"

"No! He's…" Iella trailed off. "This is going to sound really stupid but… He's… snuggling."

Mirax blinked. That did sound odd. "You said 'snuggling' as in 'hugging' , right? Not 'smuggling', as in, 'what [i]_I[/i]_ do for a living'?"

"Yes, snuggling. Cuddling. Holding me close while he sleeps."

"That's not exactly unusual, is it? I mean, it's Wedge. He craves contact – especially with you. He'd probably hold you all day if it wasn't so impractical."

"I know!" Iella snapped. "You think I don't realise that?"

Mirax flinched slightly. "Okay, sure. You know your husband."

"Sorry." Iella rubbed her temples. "It's not the cuddling that's the problem – at least, not by itself."

"But…"

"But it's every night for the past few weeks! I can't sleep, I can't breathe! I feel smothered, I –"

"And you've mentioned this to him, of course?" Mirax interrupted the rant.

Iella blushed. "Well… no."

"Honey –"

"I know, I know. He can't change something he doesn't know he's doing. It just – It seems so silly and petty, and I like his snuggles, usually, and I don't want to hurt his feelings –"

"Which doesn't happen when you have a go at him about your sex life in public?"

Tears spilled from Iella's eyes again. "I know. Which is why I hate myself at the moment. He's not really doing anything wrong, and I keep going off at him, and he doesn't know [i]_why[/i]_ and –"

"And he gives you that look that makes you feel like you've just kicked a whisperkit."

Iella chuckled through her tears. "That's it exactly."

"And you're exhausted, and emotional, and babbling; and the person you really need to be talking to is sitting out there, probably being harassed by my husband as we speak." Mirax hooked an arm over Iella's shoulders, wiping away her tears and stroking her hair gently. "Why don't you go home, sort this out with your man and get some sleep?"

"But… I'll have ruined your dinner…"

"Oh please. I'll be out of the house, with my husband, eating a meal not cooked by me, unhindered by a three-year-old boy or a three-month-old girl. It'll be luxury." She kissed Iella's cheek. "We'll do lunch sometime soon, or dinner; or someone will throw a party for no apparent reason. It's fine."

Iella gave her a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

Mirax smiled cheekily. "Oh, don't fret, I expect to get some serious babysitting favours out of this."

Iella grinned. "The baby, the boy or the husband?"

"Any and all." She dragged her friend towards the door. "Come on, let's go save Wedge from being interrogated about being a 'Sex God'."

"Mirax…"

"Do you use that term often, or was he extra-specially good this morning?"

"You're never going to let me live this one down, are you?"

"A gem like that? Never. Though it is quite difficult to imagine good ol' General Veggies as a Sex God. You'll have to tell me just how he warranted that promotion."

"Shoot me now…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Being Mrs Antilles**

Iella dropped onto the couch and dragged her boots off with a sigh, while Wedge disappeared into the kitchen to put away the leftovers the restaurant had kindly packed for them.

The drive home had been uncomfortably silent, Iella staring unseeingly out at the city while Wedge piloted with all of his usual skill, but none of his usual joy.

She was not looking forward to this conversation; partly because she felt like an idiot for letting something so minor upset her so much in the first place – and partly because she was afraid she would totally lose it again and say something that would [i]_really_[/i] hurt Wedge this time.

Iella usually tried to avoid comparing her second marriage to her first – Wedge and Diric were different men, and the circumstances were hardly similar. But sometimes the thought crossed her mind that being Mrs Wessiri had been easier than being Mrs Antilles. Not that she and Diric hadn't argued; that had been inevitable every time he'd meddled in her CorSec cases. But she'd never really gone beyond supreme irritation with him, and she'd certainly never been afraid of hurting him with a verbal attack. Kind, sweet and gentle, Diric had just let her occasional angry words wash over him.

With Wedge it was different. Though most of the galaxy only saw 'General Antilles, Hero of the New Republic, Cooler than a Deep Space Comet', she knew better. She knew his compassion, the true depths of his honour and loyalty; and she knew his weaknesses. And just as he could rouse her to passion, he could also rouse her to fierce anger. And despite his image and his ego, he was a deeply sensitive soul who could not shield his heart from the lasers she could fire his way.

"Iella?"

She jolted at the soft voice and the gentle touch on her arm. She must have dozed off. Wedge was kneeling before her, dark eyes watching her closely. "Oh. Hi."

"Hi," he echoed, mouth twitching in amusement. "The tub's ready, if you want it."

She blinked in confusion. '_[i]The tub?[/i]' _"Wedge Antilles, did you just run me a bath?"

Her husband blushed. "Well… yes. I thought – well – I thought you –"

Iella watched him stammer, feeling like she was going to cry again. She'd yelled at him, embarrassed him, ruined a night out with their friends – and the first thing he did was look after her.

"Shh." She pressed her fingers against his lips, stilling his words. "Thank you."

He kissed her fingers. "I'll have some sweet caf ready when you're done." He stood to walk away, but Iella grabbed his arm and got to her feet.

"Come in with me."

Wedge looked surprised. "But you –"

"We still need to talk." She tugged on his hand and he followed her to the refresher.

"I thought we'd talk after." Wedge stopped in the doorway, looking away when she started undoing her shirt.

She couldn't help laughing at him as she finished undressing. "As I recall, you weren't nearly so shy this morning, [i]_husband_[/i]."

"Yes, and as I recall, I got into quite a bit of trouble for it." He came into the room, holding her arm as she stepped into the tub.

"Right." [i]_Duh, woman, you tore him a new one earlier. Of course he's going to be hesitant._[/i] "Sorry." She lowered herself into the water, sighing blissfully as the heat bit into tight muscles.

Wedge leaned against the wall. "Good, huh?"

"Perfect." She looked sideways at him. "You are welcome to join me in here."

He sighed, sliding hands through his hair. "As tempting as that is – we both know that if I get into that tub, I am [i]_not_[/i] going to be focussing on the conversation."

The conversation she didn't really want to have. The conversation they really needed to have. "Could you at least lose the uniform? I feel a little underdressed here."

Wedge stared at her. "Sweetheart, I love you more than life itself, but your mood is harder to keep up with than an A-wing."

Iella blushed, and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Back in a moment, dear."

While he was out of the room, she sank lower in the water, soaking her long hair. She really ought to wash it… but she really couldn't be bothered.

She sat up when Wedge returned, now in sleep shorts and an old shirt. "Do I meet your approval, my lady?"

Iella smiled. "Much better." She waved him over and he perched beside her. "Wedge, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have – I mean, I should have – I – oh, kriff it!" She slammed her fist down, sending water and foam into the air.

Wedge chuckled. "Easy, love. I know. You're sorry." He hooked a hand into her hair, then frowned thoughtfully. "Lean forward."

Iella did so, and Wedge eased in to sit behind her on the edge of the tub. His feet rested in the water either side of her, and she leaned back against his legs. She felt the coolness of the shampoo, then Wedge's fingers began to dig through her hair, massaging her scalp.

Another layer of tension began to lift and Iella hummed in appreciation. "That feels heavenly."

"Good. It's meant to." They sat in silence for a while, before Wedge picked up the conversation. "I know you're sorry for yelling – but I need to know why you were angry in the first place." He gently pulled on her hair, tipping her head back so he could see her face. "I know [i]_what_[/i] we were fighting about – but is that really [i]_why_[/i] we were fighting?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Obtuse Rustbucket with an Attitude Problem**

Iella sat waiting in an examination room in the NRI medical offices, one ankle crossed over her knee, flicking irritably at the hem of her pants. She hated the regular physicals required of all agents.

She'd woken that morning to find herself wrapped around her husband – the exact opposite of the situation that had been irking her for weeks.

Wedge had obviously been awake before her, and was just as obviously delighted by the turnaround. She'd wanted nothing more than to stay lazing in bed – in his arms – all day. But again they had to work, although this time it was Wedge reminding them of their duties.

'_If I'd remembered that I had this rotten physical, I'd have worked harder to convince Wedge to take a day off,'_ she thought balefully. Being poked and prodded and peered into – by a droid, no less – had taken her relaxed loose mood, and transformed it into something approaching the snarling beast it had been the day before.

"Agent Wessiri." The droid had returned. "Your tests are complete. Your status has been updated to Restricted: Datawork and Analysis Only. Duration of Restriction is a minimum of 12 months. Any upcoming fieldwork assignments have been cancelled. You will be reassigned, pending an interview with General Cracken."

Iella was on her feet. "Whoa, wait a minute!" she demanded, fear making her tense. "Reassigned? Why? What's wrong with me?"

"You're suffering from a lack of required dietary components; most significantly, a marked deficiency in iron, which has resulted in moderate anaemia."

"Anaemia?" Iella was thoroughly confused. "So I take iron supplements and up the red meat intake. How does anaemia warrant a restriction from fieldwork for over a year?"

"Anaemia doesn't. It's merely a symptom of the underlying cause."

She resisted the urge to slam the droid's head down onto the desk. "What the hell is the underlying cause?" _What if there's something really wrong with me?_

"The development of a blastocyte into a viable fetus of approximately ten weeks gestation."

Iella stared blankly at the droid, desperately trying to make sense of its words and wondering absently why it should be so difficult. Two words managed to register.

"Gestation? _Fetus_?" She gaped, suddenly breathless. "Pregnant? I'm pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Son of a Sith," she breathed.

"I cannot speculate about the fetus' gender or paternity without further testing – unless you are the Sith in question?"

Iella found herself staring at the droid again. "Were you programmed by the Wraiths, by any chance?"

"Please do not mention those individuals in my presence. Now, common symptoms of your condition include tiredness, fatigue, nausea, vomiting, increased frequency of urination, constipation, changes to mammary tissue, irritability and unpredictable mood swings. Have you experienced any of these?"

"Uh…" Iella was overwhelmed – by the news, by the massive list, by her complete inability to form a coherent thought.

"Do you have any awareness of your own health and body?" Disdain managed to pour through the electronic voice. "It would not surprise me to learn that you didn't – after all, you seem to be totally oblivious to a condition that you should have been aware of weeks ago."

Iella was incensed. "You misshapen pile of parts! It's no surprise you're not part of a paying medical practice – the patients would pay to use you for _target _practice!"

"If we have devolved to insults, this meeting has reached the end of its usefulness. Very well. You'll need to have a consultation with your usual health care provider; assuming you actually have one. Failure on your part to obtain professional prenatal care makes me in no way responsible for the fate of your fetus. Parental leave applications and information can be accessed through the NRI database. General Cracken will see you as soon as he has a free moment. Good day, Agent Wessiri."

Iella strode across the room, shaking with shock and fury. As the door slid open, she turned back to the insufferable droid. "It's Agent Antilles, rustbucket," she said venomously before storming out.

Wedge sighed in relief as he dragged his boots off at the door. After a meeting with various squadron leaders had wrapped up hours later than it should have due to bureaucratic bungling, he'd decided to go home a bit early. There was nothing on his desk that couldn't wait until morning.

The apartment was cool and dark. Iella wasn't due home for another hour; perhaps he could get dinner started early; have it ready when she got home. It couldn't hurt, he decided; whether she'd had a bad day or not, it would still be a nice gesture.

He wandered towards the kitchen, but paused as he passed the living room. Was that movement? He flicked on the lights and was surprised to see Iella curled up in a blanket on the couch, fast asleep.

He came quietly to her, kneeling by her side and carefully moving locks of her glorious hair away from her face. She slept peacefully, but he could see that she'd been crying again.

"Oh, my sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching, as he traced tear tracks down her cheek with a gentle finger.

Gold eyelashes fluttered as Iella turned her face into his touch. "Wedge?"

He kissed her forehead. "Hello, lovely." Iella leaned into him and he held her close, resting his cheek against her hair. "I'm early – so when did _you_ get home?"

"Oh… earlier." Iella rubbed her eyes, yawning. "Cracken gave me the afternoon."

Wedge frowned. "Why?"

"Might've had something to do with my bursting into tears in his office." She looked scared and worried as she sat back from him.

"Iella?"

"I had a physical this morning," she blurted, her fingernails worrying at each other. Wedge felt his guts freeze and his dread must have shown in his expression, because Iella hastily added, "I'm alright, mostly, just a minor dietary detail that's no big deal to fix. But – I now know exactly why I've been such a beast lately." She bit her thumbnail, a sure sign of her anxiety.

He rested his hands on her knees, not much reassured. "And why's that, love?"

"I – I am – oh kriff, Wedge – I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant?" he breathed. He could feel an almost unbelieving delight run through him. "A baby?"

"That's usually what being pregnant means."

Wedge laughed, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her swiftly. "A baby. We're having a baby!"

Iella was suddenly sobbing into his shoulder, confusing him completely. "'Ella?"

"Sorry, I'm sorry." She sat back, wiping her eyes. "I keep doing that, I can't stop doing that, I'm sick to _death_ of doing that! Cracken's office; on the way to the doctor's; the doctor's office; on the way home; waiting for you to get home…"

"Why didn't you _call_ me?"

"I was going to, but I decided to get it confirmed by a _real_ doctor, not some obtuse rustbucket with faulty programming and an attitude problem." Wedge raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. "Then after Dr Banefre confirmed it and I'd stopped crying again, I came home and I was going to call, but I remembered you said something about a meeting, and I didn't want to drag you out of it, and – and if I told you – when I told you, I knew it'd become real, really real, and –" She cut off her rambling words, swallowing. "Wedge, I'm pregnant."

"You mentioned that." She sniffled and he rubbed her shoulders. "Sweetheart, isn't this _good_ news?"

"I don't think I can do this!"

Wedge pulled back to look into her eyes, a little frightened. "Iella, you do want children, right?"

"Of course I do… It's just that we agreed to talk about it at our third anniversary, and that's still weeks away, and –"

"We'll work it out," he whispered.

"But there's been no mission briefing!"

He had to chuckle. "How does that make it any different from most of the missions we've found ourselves together on? We almost always end up winging it."

Iella grabbed his collar. "Wedge, I don't think I can handle this!"

"Oh, 'Ella. Of course you can!"

"I'm ten weeks pregnant and I'm already so much of a Kath hound that you should be taking your X-wing on extended test flights around the solar system. How am I going to handle another 30 weeks of this?"

"Sweetheart, you are going to be so amazing." He sat beside her on the couch, sliding an arm around her. "Now that we know why you're feeling so bad, we can work through it. You'll have things to make you feel better, and this stage only lasts so long. And I promise to be just as understanding as I possibly can." He kissed her cheek. "There is nothing I want more than to help you while you carry this child," he whispered in her ear as he placed a gentle hand on her belly, wondering at the thought of the life within her.

"Oh Wedge." She wrapped her arms around him, crying again. "I love you."

"I love you, my lady." A thought occurred to him. "Have you seen the baby yet?"

"No; I didn't get the scans – I want you to be there. So we can see our baby together." She smiled shakily. "_Our_ baby."

"Yes, our baby. She's going to be so gorgeous – like her mother." He leaned in for a kiss, but she jerked away.

"'_She_'? Who says this baby's a girl?"

Wedge grinned cockily. "I do."

"Well, _I_ say]'_he_'," Iella retorted, but her eyes were sparkling. "I want a little boy just like the one I've seen in old holos of you."

Wedge blushed. "I guess we'll have to wait and see, won't we?" He smirked. "20 credits on a girl."

"Our baby is _not_ a betting pool."

"She will be just as soon as the Rogues find out."

"He." Iella bit her lip. "How are we going to tell everyone?"

"Well, I was thinking of broadcasting it over the Holonet –" He laughed when Iella smacked his arm.

"Palooka. Who do we tell first?"

Wedge smiled. "That's easy. Mirax and Corran."

"To make up for my appalling behaviour." Iella nodded. "Then Winter and Tycho?"

"And Booster. Leia, Han and Luke. Beyond that – I imagine osmosis, word of mouth and those blasted holoshills will take care of the rest of the galaxy."

Iella leaned into his arms, smiling. "I wonder if Mirax suspected – she's been there twice. And Corran the Jedi…"

"I don't really give a damn," Wedge said with perfect complacency. "The only thing I care about right now is you; and our girl." He kissed her, deep and slow, and she responded; and he knew he could never contain all of his love for her.

"Our boy," she murmured against his lips, and he laughed, nuzzling her hair.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving." She nipped his jaw and he jumped, thrilling at the huskiness of her voice. "But I need food first."

"Devil." He stood while she grinned evilly. "Very well – what is my lady's desire?"

"I told you, I have to eat first." She shrieked when he bent down and bit her neck, before pulling her to her feet. "Fine. A nerf steak, preferably somewhat close to 'still bleeding'."

"O…kay." Iella usually preferred her meat well-done, but he wasn't about to argue. "Mostly dead nerf, coming right up. Usual sides?"

"Mm-hmm." Before he could move, another searing kiss had his head spinning.

"A-wing," he muttered breathlessly.

"Get used to it flyboy." They stayed locked together for several more minutes before Iella pushed him away abruptly. "Dinner."

"A-wing!"


	6. Chapter 6

**You'll Just Have To Get Flexible**

"Shavit! Stang! Kriffing Sith-spawned piece of poodoo!"

"Iella?"

"Kriff it!"

_Courage, Antilles._ Wedge took a deep breath then stuck his head into the bedroom. "Iella?"

A flurry of fabric hit him in the face. Freeing himself, he saw his wife standing in front of their closet, wearing only underwear and bra. A mountain of clothes lay on the bed, and there were tears on Iella's face – as well as a truly ferocious scowl. "'Ella?"

She glared at him. "I'm fat already."

_Oh no. Not that. Not so soon – she's only three months!_ Wedge shut his eyes for a moment before approaching her. "Iella, you are not fat. You're –"

"Already unable to fit into most of my clothes!" Several tops were thrown to the floor.

He dared slip his arms around her waist, and was grateful that she didn't push him away. "Sweetheart, you're having a baby. You're supposed to get bigger; it means our baby's growing in there." He cupped her belly with his palm.

"But I'm not supposed to be this big! Not yet!" She sniffled, leaning into him. "My pants don't fit, and my dresses – well, let's just say 'bust' definitely applies."

Wedge peered over her shoulder at the area in question. "Hmm. I thought they were getting rounder."

"Wedge!"

"What? I'm not allowed to look?" he protested. "Iella, you're gorgeous. I'm _always_ going to be looking." He kissed her cheek as she blushed.

"But what am I supposed to wear? The only things that are comfortable are my workout sweats."

"Then they'll do." Wedge smirked.

"For a dinner party at the President's? I think not!"

"It's just Leia."

"No."

"Why not buy something?" Wedge rested his cheek against hers, and rubbed her belly distractedly.

"We're supposed to be there in an hour."

"Darling, I've seen you shop. An hour is plenty." When not 'shopping' with the girls, Iella approached this task the same way she did everything else – as a mission to be completed.

Iella patted his cheek and sighed. "I just – I shouldn't _have_ to buy something new. I should be able to wear _my_ clothes, as they are."

He turned her to face him, concerned at the weariness in her voice. "You're really unhappy about this, aren't you?"

Iella spread her hands, tired and defeated. "It's just – Everything is so complicated right now. I have no control over my temper, or my emotions; I can't stop crying; I can't eat half the things I really like; I can't even _think_ straight anymore! And I hate it! I hate not being in control of myself!" She dashed tears away from her eyes. "I hate this!" she almost screamed.

_Oh Force. What do I do?_ Wedge was thrown by her distress. "Are you at all happy to be pregnant? Is there no joy you can find?" A thought flooded through him and he froze. _No. Couldn't be…_ "Do you even want this baby? Is this why we haven't told anyone yet, even though we've known for weeks?" His voice caught. "Do you wish it were gone?"

Iella's eyes were wide with shock. "What? Oh, sweetheart. Of course not!" She cupped his jaw with one hand, threading the other through his hair. "I want to have your baby – don't ever doubt that, _ever_."

Wedge sagged with relief, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry, 'Ella," he murmured through tears. "I just know this has been so hard on you, you've been feeling so bad – I guess I just panicked."

She rubbed her cheek against his, and he could feel her tears mix with his. "Ssshh, my love. It's okay. I've been falling apart all over the place; I guess it was your turn. You've been taking the brunt of all my mood swings, and not complaining at all. Just because I'm the pregnant one doesn't mean that your feelings don't matter. I'm sorry."

He wound his arms around her, pulling her close. "No, 'Ella. I swore I'd be here for you – and I am. I'd take all of it – the pain, the sickness, the hormonal craziness – a million times over if I could. And it'll all be worth it the moment we get to hold our baby."

Iella buried her face in his shoulder, and he ran his hands along her back, letting his tears fall upon her hair. He wanted to put everything he was feeling into words; he wanted to share his joy, help her feel it. "Our child will be so beautiful; all the more precious for the struggle. Our lives are going to change – it won't be just you and me anymore." He kissed the top of her head. "We'll be a family. Like the one I lost… like the one you never really had."

Iella raised her head and captured his lips in a brief but deep kiss. "You know what?" she whispered, half-smiling. "I've changed my mind. I hope you do get your little girl. I want to see you wrapped around her finger."

Wedge laughed softly. "Our little girl, 'Ella. Ours." He nuzzled her neck, feeling the swell of her belly against his. "If she's anything like her mother, I won't stand a chance. I'm already wrapped around your little finger."

She huffed a laugh, then used the hem of his shirt to wipe her eyes. "You'll just have to get flexible then."

He chuckled, glad she was feeling better – for now, at least. "Come on, my lady. Let's get you and our bump all dolled up."

Iella flicked a surprised look at the chrono. "Sithspit! Half an hour?" She sighed, staring at the mess on the bed. "I certainly can't shop for a dress now."

"Sure you can." He dug through the pile and chucked her sweats to her.

"We'll be late!" she protested, making no move to pull them on.

"So, we'll be late. They can deal."

"But – my hair – my makeup –"

"We'll get those done out too."

"Wedge! It'll cost a fortune!" Iella seemed astounded.

"I don't care how much it costs. You need this." He caught hold of her shoulders before she could protest again. "I want this. I want you to feel comfortable, and beautiful, and pampered, and spoiled, and it doesn't matter how many credits it takes, because you are priceless! I would sell my X-wing, if that's what it took!" He surprised himself with the intensity of his words.

Iella stared at him, mouth open in wonder. "Why did I take so long to marry you?"

Wedge grinned. "Because my general awesomeness had you totally stunned."

Her laugh broke up the tension, and she slapped his belly playfully. "Ah, _there's_ my husband. I was wondering where he got to."

He pulled her in for a fiery kiss that left her gasping. "Never far from you," he whispered, his voice gone hoarse.

"Good," Iella breathed, stroking his cheek. "Otherwise, I'd have to hunt you down – and you wouldn't want that."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he murmured huskily, and she swallowed nervously.

"We should get going," she said shakily, and Wedge couldn't restrain an evil grin, "or we really will be late."

"So – let's be late."

She wavered, but Wedge could see the surrender in her eyes. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's be very late."


	7. Chapter 7

**Was It Something I Said?**

"You're late," Corran couldn't resist needling as Han led the Antilles into the Solos' crowded entertaining area.

Iella wrinkled her nose at him. "Don't start with me, Horn!" she called back, smirking. He grinned as he thought _'Definite improvement in her mood since last time.'_

Valin squirmed out of his father's arms and hurtled across the room, crying "An Lella!"

Wedge swooped down in front of his wife and hauled the three-year-old into the air. "What about Uncle Wedge, huh?" He blew a raspberry on the little boy's belly.

"No no no, Un Veggies!" Valin squealed, and the room seemed to burst with laughter. Corran snorted at the affronted look on the general's face. _Score one, Mirax._

"It's Wedge, Valin. Wedge."

"Veggies! Ma say Veggies!"

Wedge rolled his eyes at his laughing audience. "Of course she does," he muttered. "Fine then. Veggies it is. I'm sure there's some in the kitchen."

Valin looked alarmed. "No no."

Wedge grinned. "Oh yes. Come on, then. Let's find some." He tucked him under his arm and headed for the door.

"Oh Wedge." Iella plucked the now wailing boy from her husband's grip. "Stop tormenting the child. He already has Corran for a father."

Corran, who'd been laughing until then, frowned at his former partner. "Hey!"

Iella ignored him, placing a gentle kiss on his son's forehead instead. "Don't worry, Valin. Wedge didn't really mean it. He was just playing."

The boy cuddled close to her. "Love An Lella."

"Naw," came the almost mocking chorus from the assembled pilots, Wes Janson leading. Iella fixed them all with a cool stare as she set Valin on his feet.

Most of Rogue Squadron was here – Wes, Inyri and Hobbie had set up sabacc in the corner, while Tycho and Myn chatting quietly, leaned against a wall. Gavin was chuckling next to Corran, three-year-old Cayleen dozing on his shoulder, his very pregnant wife Sera in an armchair nearby. Mirax had disappeared to change Jysella, with Luke and Chewie rounding out the group, wrestling with the Solo kids and dumping them on the couch.

"Wedge, Iella!" Leia emerged from the kitchen, Winter trailing after her. The princess moved to hug her friends. "We were beginning to get worried."

"She was getting worried," Han interjected. "The rest of us were placing bets on what was taking you so long."

Corran smirked as a faint blush appeared on Iella's cheeks. "Care to make us some money?"

She pinned him with a playful glare. "I can't confirm or deny anything."

"Ooh. Intriguing," he teased as he lifted Valin in one arm, hugging her with the other. "General? Any comments?"

Wedge just smiled enigmatically. "Last minute shopping." He wrapped his arms around Iella from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck.

Mirax joined them, Jysella gurgling happily now that she was clean again. "You look fabulous, Iella! Is that a new dress?"

Corran took a closer look as Iella nodded, seeming almost shy. The cocktail dress was a rich cobalt blue, gathered just under her bust and flowing loose to her knees. Her hair had been pulled up into an elegant knot high on the back of her head, leaving wisps and strands free for Wedge to play with, as he was known to do. She was stunning… but there was something different that he just couldn't quite place…

"Well, you look totally fantastic, and I am totally jealous." Mirax brushed a kiss against her friend's cheek. "I still haven't lost the wobbly bits from having Sella."

Sera snorted, rubbing over her taut belly. "I would kill for those wobbly bits right now, Mirax. Wobbly bits mean the hard part is over."

Wedge smiled, his arms tightening around Iella's waist. "Hey Sera. How much longer have you got?"

She rolled her eyes. "However much longer the little one wants to stick around, I guess. The doctor says about four weeks, but I hope not. I want to be skinny again." She turned to Gavin with a wistful sigh. "Remember when you could hold me like that, dear? All the way round, and no stretching?"

Gavin chuckled. "Of course I do." He kissed the top of her head. "It's not much longer. And you're still beautiful." He straightened carefully, his daughter mumbling as he moved. "I'd better wake this sleepyhead; it looks like dinner's being served."

*****

Dinner went fairly well, even with six children at the table. _Seven_, Corran corrected himself as he watched Cayleen and Wes pull faces at each other across the table. A minimal amount of food ended up on the floor and there were no screaming tantrums – although Valin remained dubious about the Alderaanian honeyed greens.

Leia rose from her seat at the head of the table. "Before we move on to dessert, I'm sure you're all wondering why we're here."

"Nah." Wes shook his head, grinning. "Free food and free booze – that's all we need to know."

"Here comes the catch," Hobbie groaned. "No such thing as a free meal and all that. What suicidal mission do we have to volunteer for now?"

"Really tough duty, this one," Han warned, a mocking glint in his eye.

"If it involves racing up a canyon or a trench, I nominate Gavin and Luke." Corran took his daughter in his arms so that Mirax could finish eating.

"There's something vaguely similar." Leia smiled widely. "It is my honour and pleasure to announce that Winter and Tycho have decided to get married!"

Cheers and whistles broke out; Hobbie yelled "It's about damn time!" and Iella rounded the table to hug her friend. Corran just grinned at the couple; quiet and dignified amongst the chaos.

"In honour of the occasion," Leia called over the commotion, "we have a very special dessert."

Threepio emerged from the kitchen bearing a frosted white confection, covered in faint hints of pastels that curled into delicate petals.

"Oh," Sera breathed as the work of art was carefully placed on the table. "Is that a _laitari_?"

Leia nodded. "The traditional dish to be served upon the engagement of a member of the family." She turned to Winter, whose eyes were brimming. "Congratulations. You are the sister of my soul, and I could never have found as loyal and self-sacrificing a friend if I'd spent all my years searching. You have given so much of yourself for my family. Now it's time for me to give to you. Just know that I was blessed the day my father adopted you."

Winter smiled through her tears – a rare show of emotion for the elegant lady. "It has been my honour to serve." The two women embraced amid soft applause.

A rippling trio of sniffles echoed along the table, causing chuckles. Sera, Mirax and Iella were all wiping eyes and noses with their napkins.

Noticing the looks, Sera flushed slightly. "Damn pregnancy hormones."

Mirax nodded firmly. "Post natal."

Corran turned to Iella, a sudden suspicion coming to mind. _Could she possibly be…?_ "So what's your excuse?"

Iella just lifted her chin. "That was a beautiful, touching moment. I don't need an excuse."

"Now that's my woman." Wedge caressed her cheek gently, and she blushed slightly.

Han had been studying them, and suddenly blurted, "Hey, aren't you guys up for an anniversary soon?"

"Our third, in three weeks. Why?" Wedge seemed a little baffled, and Corran could sympathize. _Where's the scoundrel going with this?_

"Well, could you act a little less like newly-weds?" Han shook his head in mock-disgust. "One year for all the lovey stuff – that's the rule. Then you head off into 'old-married-couple' territory. You'll be giving this pair the wrong idea, acting all shiny like that."

Mirax laughed. "Oh please. You should have seen them a few weeks ago. Hoo boy. They would've had you diving for cover."

"Really?" Sera asked, a wicked gleam in her eye. Beside her, Gavin smothered a grin, and focused on clearing the debris of dinner off his daughter. Everyone around the table was watching the Antilles in amusement, even as Leia and Winter began serving sprays of flowers and cake.

"Oh, yes, really." Corran grinned. He knew Sera quite well – the Horns and the Darklighters were close and had spent much time together; especially the women, who'd shared the worries of military wives and two pregnancies. Cayleen and Valin were frequent playmates. He leaned forward to fulfil her curiousity. "In the middle of a classy restaurant, no less."

"Corran," Iella growled, glaring at him. _Quick mood change there._

"No!" Sera mock-gasped, smirking. Wes and Hobbie were sniggering behind their hands and even Luke couldn't cover his grin.

"I just can't imagine it." Leia placed plates in front of the couple. "Not Wedge. And certainly not Iella."

"I promise you, it happened. Trust me. We were there. Front row seats." Mirax batted big eyes at the princess. "I was a little concerned when Iella started hurling knives as well as insults."

"Knives?" Myn blurted incredulously, glancing between the general and his wife as if he expected her to pull a vibroblade on him then and there.

"I didn't –" Iella protested, switching her glare to target Mirax.

"I swear on the Skate, the cutlery flew."

"The knife was dropped." Iella seemed to be gritting her teeth.

"Honey, you threw it halfway across the table."

"It was a small table!"

"Aha!" Corran crowed triumphantly. "So you admit to the throwing?"

"I'm admitting that there was a knife and a table; and if you keep this up, I'll have an actual incident to admit to!"

"Corran, Mirax, stop stirring up trouble. Words were exchanged, but no blades. 'Ella, at least wait until there are no impressionable children to witness it." Wedge took his wife's hands and brought them to his lips. "So we argued. Any couple at this table that claims they've never argued is blatantly lying."

"It's more the 'arguing in public' that we were wondering at," Hobbie confessed. "Neither of you are really the type."

"Unlike other couples at this table," Tycho offered lightly.

"Hear, hear," Luke chimed in cheerfully. "I think the record for 'most number of public arguments' would have to go to Han and Leia."

Han raised his glass. "I'll drink to that!"

"You're Corellian, you'd drink to just about anything," Sera teased.

"And if there's nothing to drink to, we drink from sorrow!" Han, Corran and Myn finished the saying.

Jysella, who'd been nodding off, startled fully awake at the hearty cheers and started to cry. _Now I've done it!_ He caught sight of Mirax rolling her eyes and grimaced. He still wasn't used to having a baby around again, and often did slightly foolish things that unsettled his infant daughter. _Okay, sometimes more than slightly. But Valin wasn't anywhere near as fussy. I got away with it more with him._

"Sorry, Sella," he cooed, bouncing her gently on his knee and trying to sooth her before she really got going. He could hear Wes and Hobbie sniggering at his ineffectual attempts.

"Oh honestly." Iella moved down the table and lifted the baby girl against her chest, running a light hand over the downy head. "You have such a very silly father. Yes, you do. I'd yell at him, too."

"'Would'? 'Would' yell at him?" Wes snorted. "I'd say you just did – very impressively, too."

"She's kind of scary when she gets like that," Han muttered, smirking into his drink. "I'd be ready to run if I were you, Horn."

Corran, however, wasn't listening to the conversation and laughter. He was watching the Antilles intently. Iella was rocking gently as she rubbed Jysella's back. Her eyes were fixed on the baby's face; Wedge's eyes were fixed on his wife. A strange expression softened the general's features – sharply yearning, yet inexpressibly tender.

Corran looked down at his plate, his suspicion settling into certainty. He felt like an intruder into his friend's thoughts, although he'd heard nothing at all and barely touched the Force. The strength of Wedge's love and longing at that moment… _I don't need the Force to confirm this for me. It's all right there in his eyes._

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he glanced up. Luke was standing next to Corran, a sympathetic look on his face. _He understands. He picked up on it too._

Luke turned to Mirax. "It looks like Valin's almost out. Shall I put him to bed for you?"

"Would you?" She smiled gratefully. "That'd be wonderful, thank you."

"My pleasure." Gently lifting the boy from his high chair, Luke showed none of his brooding Jedi Master air. _Perhaps he could do with a little more time around children._ "Hey, Gavin, I've room for one more."

Gavin grinned. "Since it's on your way and all." Cayleen was transferred from one Tatooine farmboy to another, and Luke headed off with his precious dozing cargo. Chewbacca was wrangling with the Solo kids. Jaina insisted on giving everyone there a goodnight kiss, and the boys followed suit when they saw how it stalled the whole process of actually going to bed.

Corran had to laugh when little Anakin crash-tackled himself into Tycho's lap, yelling, "You're fambly now, Uncle Tych!"

Han snorted as the Wookiee finally hustled the children out. "Kids. Seriously, Tycho, you sure you want to marry into this family?"

"I can handle the children," the Alderaanian said mildly. "But for Winter… I'm even willing to put up with you."

"Ooh, feel the burn!" Wes cried out, almost cackling. Corran also sniggered at the expression on Han's face.

A gasp came from beside him and Jysella was roughly thrust back into his arms, squalling at the abrupt movement. Iella bolted from the room, one hand clasped over her mouth, the other supporting her against the walls and doorjamb. Wedge followed in her wake.

Silence fell over the dinner room as everyone started after the pair in surprise. Typically, it was Wes who broke the silence.

"Was it something I said?" 


	8. Chapter 8

**You Are, Aren't You?**

Iella didn't quite make it to the refresher before losing control of her stomach, but she did get her head over the bowl before she made too much of a mess. _So much for dinner. So much for feeling better._

She felt Wedge kneel behind her, gentle hands rubbing her back and easing strands of hair out of her face. She could hear him speaking, but she couldn't understand the words; couldn't find the energy to care. She was just glad he was there.

She shuddered for what seemed like ages, tears forced from her eyes by the violence of her heaves. Though she'd been ill many times over the past few weeks, this attack was worse than she was used to; probably because she'd overindulged in fine Alderaanian cuisine.

A cool damp cloth was laid across her neck as her nausea finally eased. She gasped as she slumped backwards against Wedge, trying not to dissolve into sobs. _Why is this so difficult?_ She'd watched Mirax and Sera – neither seemed to have had as much trouble as Iella was having.

"Ssh. Easy, 'Ella." Her husband wiped her mouth with another cloth, then offered her a glass of water. When her hands shook too much and water sloshed down her front, he held the glass steady for her. Leaning forward to spit, she caught a flash of white in the doorway – Winter, standing ready with more water and towels.

"So much for not crashing the party," she rasped. The moment Leia had made the announcement, Iella had decided that she was not going to steal their friends' thunder. One shared glance, and she'd known her husband had agreed – as much as he wanted to crow about his impending fatherhood.

Wedge almost-smiled, sliding one hand around her belly. "Not your fault, darling." He raised the glass again, and she sipped from it slowly. When it went down, and stayed down, she tilted her head back to look at him.

"I'm empty."

She didn't expect him to plant a quick kiss on her lips. "No, you're not," he whispered fiercely. "Not empty."

"You just kissed me," Iella muttered, her voice high-pitched with disbelief. Winter almost giggled from where she waited.

"I did," Wedge agreed glibly. "Is that a crime now?"

"I just barfed up the entirety of dinner, and quite possibly lunch – and you're kissing me. Gross."

"You rinsed. And it's not like I was snogging you. No tongue or anything." He eased his arms under hers. "Feel like you can stand?"

Her head had mostly stopped pounding and spinning, so she nodded. "It's still gross," she protested as he pulled her to her feet. His only response was to plant another kiss on her and wrap an arm around her waist. Once out of the refresher, Winter took her arm on the opposite side. Iella leaned closer to her friend. "Gross," she stage-whispered, feeling somewhat light-headed.

"Hush, you." They helped her to the lounge room and eased her into a chair. Winter handed her a fresh glass of sparkling water. Iella sipped from it carefully, the fizz helping to clear her mouth of the acrid aftertaste. When her stomach didn't rebel, she drank more, then let her head rest back on the chair. Wedge crouched beside her, his hand warm and gentle on hers.

"Wow." She looked up to see everyone staring at her, varying expressions of concern on their faces. Even Wes, who'd spoken, seemed worried behind his half-smirk. "I think you just set some kind of record. Really."

Iella rolled her eyes, groaning. "Gee. Thank you. So very much."

"I know that groan." Sera leaned forward awkwardly in her armchair, interest lighting her eyes. "I very definitely know that groan."

Mirax gasped. "Oh! Come to think of it, so do I." She looked excitedly between the couple. "You are, aren't you?"

_There's no point hiding it now. They'll just get snoopy._ Iella nodded at her husband, and he grinned almost boyishly. _Go on, flyboy. I know you've been dying to tell everyone._

Glancing around at their assembled friends, Wedge smoothed his hand over her belly and said simply, "We're pregnant."

"I knew it!" Corran's joyful whoop startled Jysella into crying yet again. But everyone else was also cheering and applauding, so he wasn't likely to get in trouble for it.

Winter dipped down to hug her friend. "I'll have to keep that in mind when choosing bridesmaid dresses," she said with a grin. Iella just returned the hug.

"How far along are you? The wedding's in four months, so…" Leia mused thoughtfully.

"Three months. Well, thirteen weeks, if you want to be precise." Iella placed her hand over Wedge's where it rested on the swell of their child. She felt a warm, shivery feeling running through her at the thought. _Our child. Is this what Wedge feels? I'm finally starting to understand._ Tears welled in her eyes once more.

"Only three?" Sera blurted, eyes wide. "I'd swear you were closer to four!" Mirax nodded in agreement.

Iella flushed, feeling a little awkward. _Feeling a bit fat, you mean,_ she scolded herself. So she _was_ bigger than usual. She trusted the other ladies to know – after all, only Winter and Inyri hadn't been there before; and with Winter's memory, she was probably mentally comparing Iella's bump to others she'd seen right this minute.

Winter did indeed look thoughtful, staring at the swell as if measuring it. She met Iella's eyes, a hint of mischief in her smile. "They're right; you do look further along then they did at that stage. Then again, you'd probably find you match Leia in her first pregnancy."

_So it's normal then?_ Iella wondered at the grins everyone was suddenly sporting. "What's so funny?" she asked the room, bewildered when all she got in response were chuckles. She turned to Wedge, who looked somewhat dumbstruck. "What?"

"Her first pregnancy," Corran prompted with a smirk. "When she had…?"

"Jacen and Jain…" Horrified realisation struck, rather like a Star Destroyer's orbital bombardment. "Oh kriff, no."

Giggles swept around the room – whether at her delayed reaction, or just the reaction itself, she wasn't sure. She didn't entirely care. _I was just getting excited about this baby; I don't think I can handle two! Oh kriff, oh Force, oh kriff._ She started to gasp, trembling.

Wedge leaned over and rested his forehead against hers. "Easy, love," he murmured, reaching up to caress her cheek. "I've got you, it's okay. Easy." He tightened his grip on her hand as he glared around the room, finally pinning Winter with it. "Thank you ever so for scaring my wife into hysterics, that's just what she needs."

"Oh, Iella, I'm sorry." The white haired woman looked uncharacteristically shamefaced. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Iella shook her head through sudden tears, struggling to get her runaway emotions under control. "You really think it could be… twins?" Her voice was high, her throat trying to strangle off her words.

Leia came forward. "It's possible. But every woman's pregnancy is different. You could be having a larger baby than any of us did. Or you just might be expanding faster, in advance of the baby." She smiled reassuringly. "Don't panic about it just yet. The doctors will be able to tell at your next appointment."

Iella sagged against her husband, somewhat relieved. Wedge tilted her face up and kissed her tenderly.

"That's kinda gross, boss." Corran was pulling a face at them, even as he tried to get Jysella to calm down. _That poor child, how does she ever get any sleep?_

Wedge rolled his eyes. "Kissing my wife is not in any way 'gross'."

"Corran does have a point," Myn pointed out reasonably. "She just had a marathon purge session, and you're puckering up."

Iella smirked wearily. "See, I told you. Gross."

"You rinsed, I didn't use tongue and you don't taste of vomit AT ALL," Wedge grumbled loudly.

She couldn't help giggling at the exasperation in his words. He responded to her laughter with another kiss, this one slow and lingering, despite hollers of "Gross!" from their audience.

Iella's blood was warm and fizzy when Wedge pulled away, and her stomach was churning for entirely pleasant reasons this time. _My hormones really __**have**__ gone haywire_, she thought dizzily, staring into his eyes as if seeing them for the first time.

Her expression must have seemed a little odd, because he frowned a little through his smile. "Are you alri-?"

Before he could finish, she'd slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her. He murmured in surprise as their lips met, fiercely this time, Iella clenching her fists in his hair. After a stunned moment, Wedge responded with equal fervour, equal passion, amid many whistles, catcalls and heckling.

"Do you think they remember they're not alone?"

"I'm of the opinion that, right this minute, they don't even care."

"Cool it, General, she's already pregnant!"

Iella was gasping when the kiss ended, sideswiped by the intensity of it. Wedge didn't seem much better off, though he did manage to raise an eyebrow at her. She shook her head. "I have no idea where that came from," she admitted breathlessly.

"Pregnancy hormones." When they turned to stare at Sera, she winked and gave Iella a thumbs-up. "You go for it, girl. It's one of the perks."

"Perks?"

"Oh yes," Mirax chimed in. "Second trimester, baby. Woo."

"I thought that was a myth."

Mirax sputtered. "A myth? But _I_ told you about it!"

"Yeah, but I didn't think that counted, since you and Corran are just perpetually horny."

"Hey!" Corran protested, over laughter.

Iella clapped a hand over her mouth, shocked. _That wasn't at all what I meant to say._

Though obviously surprised, Mirax mustered up a smirk. "Is that how it is, hmm? We _could_ talk about you guys instead." Her eyes sparkled impishly.

_Oh shavit._ "We're not perpetually horny," she protested. At Wedge's sideways glance, she added a soft, "Usually."

"No, of course not," Mirax drawled. "You just use terms like…" She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Corran, honey, what was it she called Wedge at that dinner?"

Iella froze in horror. _Next time, engage brain-to-mouth filter before insulting people with blackmail worthy material on you._

Corran was making a big show of trying to recall it, pulling out random words and making everyone intensely curious. Iella couldn't think of a single way to defuse the situation, and she didn't dare look at Wedge. She couldn't bear it if he were that embarrassed because of her again.

He squeezed her hand, and when she finally raised her eyes, she was surprised to see him smile warmly. "I've got this," he whispered, and she wondered what he could possibly have on the Horns that would keep them quiet about this.

Wedge straightened, cool and cocky, drawing the room's attention. "If you'll permit me," he interrupted, voice smooth and commanding, "I believe the term in question was 'Sex God'."

Han sputtered, choking on his whiskey, while Luke and Leia cracked up, Chewie chuckling along with them. Myn, Gavin and Inyri were caught somewhere between shock and amusement.

Wes was cackling away, but Hobbie seemed mildly perturbed. "I'm not entirely certain I needed to hear that," he muttered.

"Is he really?"

"Sera!" Gavin stared at his wife in disbelief.

"What? It's not like I'm asking personal confirmation!" She rubbed her swollen belly. "Not like that'd work, at any rate."

"Sera!" Gavin's voice hit a pitch it hadn't come near since he'd been a teenager.

"What?"

Iella ignored them all, staring up at her husband in complete amazement. He'd been utterly mortified when she'd hurled those words at him – and now he was using them to take the pressure off her. Not a hint of shyness hung around him as he stood there. He was all confidence and ego – Cockpit Wedge at his very finest.

She was on her feet and in his arms in an instant, suddenly desperate for him to hold her, love her. His lips met hers halfway, and she felt like crying.

As their embrace turned passionate, she heard Sera pipe up, "You know, you don't have to _prove_ it; I will take your word for it."

Iella broke away and faced them all, cheeks flushed. "He really is," she said huskily, and his arms curved around her from behind. "If you'll excuse us," she raised her voice over the chaos, turning back to the only person who mattered at all right now, "I need my god to take me home."


End file.
